


Her Name is Memory

by CharlotteDumont



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Romance, Romantic Fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-10
Updated: 2016-04-10
Packaged: 2018-06-01 09:45:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6513217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CharlotteDumont/pseuds/CharlotteDumont
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of short drabbles between Steve and his next door neighbor, Halia.</p><p>Set a few months after Steve Rogers wakes up from the ice, Steve moves back in at an apartment in his old hometown where he meets Halia. Although he'd vowed to move on from the past, his fondness for her grows with each chance encounter. She's that one, comfortable, simple, normal thing in a life of spies and earth threatening aliens.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. My Name isn't Jumpy

**Author's Note:**

> Just thought it would be interesting to note that the name Halia means "remembrance of a loved one"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A series of short drabbles about how Steve is adjusting to the new world and how he is quite possibly falling in love with his neighbor, Halia. 
> 
> This is set a few months after Steve Rogers wakes up from the ice and he moves back at an apartment in his hometown; this is where he meets Halia. She’s that one, comfortable, simple, normal thing in a life of spies and earth threatening aliens. Thing is, she also reminds him so much of the past and what he’d lost. Although he vowed to move on from the past, his fondness for her grows with each chance encounter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just thought it would be interesting to note that the name Halia means "remembrance of a loved one"

Four hours of arguing and bargaining later, Steve finally convinced Director Fury to allow him to move out of the boxy SHIELD HQ rooms and into an apartment of his own.

Of course he’d chosen an apartment back in Brooklyn.

Although it looked very different from how it did seventy years ago, he loved how it had developed over time. The apartment he used to stay in was long gone; it was demolished and replaced by a modern (but still homey-looking) five storey building of which he’d secured apartment 5A.

He couldn’t stay stuck in the past, that much he’d realized since he’d woken up from the ice, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t also enjoy the comforts of being in his old home.

It was a bright and early Saturday morning, Halia was just about to take a sip of her morning tea when there was some fuss outside the door. Someone was finally moving into the apartment across the hall. Curiosity had her grabbing an empty garbage bag and stepping out to ‘take out the trash’ when she caught the retreating figures of two moving men going down the stairs.

“Hi, I’m Steve,” came a voice from behind, causing her to jump a little. “Sorry,” he smiled apologetically when his bright blue eyes met her dark brown ones, “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“Jumpy,” she blurted and extended a hand “I mean, that’s not my name. I’ve always been jumpy, but my name is Halia,” she rambled while he shook her hand softly. “So, just moved in?” she asked quickly, pulling her hand away and trying to change the subject. “Yeah, just today,” he replied trying politely to keep his amusement in check.

There was something about him, something she couldn’t quite place. He looked absolutely lost, for some reason. He reminded her of herself when she’d just moved in. “I’m sort of new here too,” she said before she could stop herself. “Moved in just last month.” That put a wide smile on his handsome features. “How are you liking it?” he asked genuinely. “Good. Relatively safe. Still trying to get my bearings and all but you know, I’ll live…”

“Sooo I wouldn’t want to keep you,” she said when they both fell silent. “No, not at all. But I wouldn’t want to take you away from your chores,” he replied. “My-my what? She asked confused. “Your,” he said motioning to the garbage back in her hands. If he realized it was empty, he didn’t say a word. “Oh, trash. Right!” she seemed to scold herself under her breath and he couldn’t help but let out a low chuckle. “I’ll see you around, Halia,” he waved and left her frozen in the hallway, still gripping her empty garbage bag.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually wrote this a year ago and found it in an old notebook. I really just wanted to write a story where Steve falls in love. I might add some smut in later chapters but for now I just want to slowly build it up to how he feels about her and probably add in some chapters about Peggy.


	2. Strangers in the Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An unfortunate visit from Halia's ex-boyfriend leads to something unexpected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> God I suck at story summaries. Haha!

Steve was looking forward to a particularly quiet evening when he heard someone banging on Halia’s door. “Halia? I know you’re in there. Open up babe or I’ll break this door down!” The words came out slurred, as if the man who yelled them was incredibly drunk.

“Seriously Jared, if you don’t leave I’m calling the cops this time.” Halia didn’t sound scared at all, like she’d dealt with this man multiple times before; but when the pounding in her door didn’t stop, Steve needed to make sure she was okay and stepped out of his apartment to confront the man causing the ruckus.

“Is there a problem here?” Halia heard Steve say. She immediately unlocked the door and stepped over to Steve’s side, rollers in her hair, Batman pajamas and all, to try and iron out the tension.

“Jared, just get out of here, okay? You’re piss drunk. Again.”

“Not till you ag-ag-agree to get back together...” He stammered trying to find the right words in his drunken haze. “I am not getting back together with you, Jared. We’re done.” Jared kept trying to make his way over to her but the impenetrable wall that was Steve wouldn’t budge.

“Who is this jerk anyway?” Jared asked when his feeble attempts at reaching her failed. “Is he the reason why you won’t get back together with me?” he asked, his voice rising in frustration. “No, the reason I won’t get back together with you is because you’re a violent drunk and you make promises you never keep.”

“Yeah, name one?” he challenged. “You promised you’d sober up,” she said rolling her eyes when he failed to retort. Knowing he’d lost, he bared his teeth and was about to attack Halia when, to Steve’s surprise, she punched him square in the jaw. “Ow,” she said quietly and shook her hand as an intoxicated Jared stumbled back and almost tripped.

“Remind me never to get on your bad side,” Steve said half amused, half proud as he watched a pitiful looking Jared clutch his jaw. Jared got up and motioned to attack again but Steve was faster, catching Jared by the collar of his shirt and dangling him up against the wall effortlessly.

“Stay. Away. From her,” he growled through clenched teeth.

Security ushered a trembling Jared out leaving Steve and Halia in the hallway. “Okay, two things: first of all can we just take a moment to talk about how you LIFTED my moose of a boyfriend WITH ONE HAND and without much effort?” Halia said still gawking at Steve. He thought about it for a while, whether he’d tell her the truth about him or just tell her he worked out a lot.

It would be easier to lie, but somehow he didn’t want to kill any chance of a potential friendship by lying to her. And if tonight was any indication, she’d had enough lies already. “Okay, but only if you let me put some ice and ointment on your knuckles,” he replied finally, eyeing her already bruising fist.

They made their way to his apartment and, since he did practically save her tonight, she told him about her history with Jared.

Then it was his turn to talk. Without revealing too much to put her in danger, he told her about the war and how he’d just recently been fished out and woken up from the ice; he mentioned that he worked for a special-ops force for the government (which wasn’t a complete lie) and the reason he moved back into Brooklyn.

It felt good to talk to someone about what happened to him, and not just about the facts but also how he felt about the whole ordeal. He didn’t understand why but she seemed to be the kind of person people told these things to. To her credit, she kept a straight if not sympathetic face the whole time as he unburdened his tale on her.

After he finished he wasn’t sure what to expect. Was she going to freak out and walk out or treat him differently now that she kind of knew the truth about him?

She got up and his heart was beating a mile a minute. He steeled himself for her walking out the door, but instead she went to rummage through his refrigerator and presented one of two beers.

“Cheers to new beginnings,” she toasted him with her bandaged hand and he let out the breath he didn't realize he was holding and took a swig of his beer. They chatted for the rest of the night; mostly she brought him up to speed about the things he missed while he was asleep. It wasn’t until she yawned that he realized they’d been talking for hours.

“I should walk you back to your apartment,” he said when he saw her yawning, “wouldn’t want you to hit anyone else tonight,” he joked earning him a light punch on the shoulder. They stopped in front of her door (which was literally seven steps away) “you said there were two things you wanted to ask me tonight," he remembered, "what was the second thing?”

“Thank you,” she replied “I wanted to thank you for stepping in. I mean you barely knew me but you were willing to stick your neck out for me anyway. I guess I wasn’t expecting such kindness from a stranger,” she said seriously. “But we’re not strangers, not anymore, I mean at least I hope you don’t think so,” he added, his hand scratching the back of his head at how desperate he must have sounded. “No, you’re right. We’re not. Good night Steve Rogers.” Her body reacted before she could think and she pecked him on the cheek.

He stood there grinning like a schoolboy even after she closed the door behind her, his hand still holding the cheek she’d kissed. The evening was far from the quiet one he’d hoped for but this, he concluded, was a welcome surprise.


	3. I Won’t Say I’m in Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve and Halia have been trying to deny what they felt for each other and failed miserably.

They made small talk in the hallway when they’d manage to catch each other. He came and went and sometimes he’d be gone for weeks at a time. Not that she was taking notes or anything, and it definitely had nothing to do with that kiss she gave him. She was really just a curious neighbor, or so she’d tell herself. And MAYBE she found him a little cute… okay damn it he was downright gorgeous, but she would only let herself admit that when she was on her third glass of wine and never out loud.

She came home one night, struggling with several bags of groceries, and then the door of her apartment. “Here, let me help,” Steve who had just arrived swooped in to take the bags from her.

She was about to thank him but his disgruntled appearance froze her in place. He looked like he had just come from a war zone. That wasn’t very surprising since he’d told her what he did for a living, but seeing him come home looking like that was something else. Several strands of his neat blond hair was out of place and fell to his face, which was covered in patches with what looked like soot. But what distracted her the most was a small cut on his cheek. A look of worry etched her face and without thinking (a pattern she noticed about herself when she was around him) she fished her handkerchief out of her pocket and wiped away the blood from the cut.

“Erm, sorry, you were… there’s a thin cut on your cheek and it’s bleeding a little,” she said with a slight blush creeping up her face. “Thanks,” he replied and gave her a crooked smile before she turned away and focused all her attention to unlocking the door. Upon doing so, her Northern Inuit Maximillian pounced from the couch to greet her. “Hey boy did you miss me?” she said kneeling down to scratch the dog’s head. “This is my friend Steve,” she said making introductions. Maximillian (Max for short) sniffed at Steve a bit and decided he liked him and walked back to his place on the couch.

“Where do you want me to put these?” he asked as he took in her modest apartment for the first time. “Just on the counter please,” she replied while switching several lights on. Her place was tidy save for a bookshelf that almost spilled with all the books she stuffed in it.

On one of the shelves, he saw a photo of her with a woman who looked like an older version of herself and a young boy who he assumed was her brother. They were at some sort of amusement park. She beamed as she proudly held up a stuffed unicorn she’d no doubt won from the fair. The woman held a stick of cotton candy while the boy awkwardly smiled for the photo, looking very much like he wanted to get the whole thing over with.

He was so wrapped up with the picture that he didn’t notice her walk behind him. “That’s my mom and my brother,” she said pointing at the two people beside her in the shot. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to be nosy,” he said putting the photo down. “Psh, not at all!” she shrugged walking back to finish unpacking the rest of her groceries.

It startled him because he’d let his guard down which meant he felt safe, something that only normally happened when he was with her. “Where are they now?” He asked when he pulled himself together. “Home,” she said sadly as if home were a distant memory.

“Anyway, I’m cooking some pasta, and you my friend look like you could use some dinner. So whaddya say? I mean, don’t expect it to be restaurant-worthy or anything but it’s the least I could do to thank you for helping me carry my groceries in,” she babbled. She did that a lot and he found it quite endearing.

There was something about her that tugged at him. She was so REAL to him; and although he’d promised to leave the past behind, she somehow reminded him of a time when things were simpler, when his life wasn’t filled with missions and lies and violence; and the most complicated thing he had to do was manage to get through the day without getting an asthma attack.

“I…” he said unsure. He could tell that this was a critical point in their budding friendship. He thoroughly enjoyed her company but if he let her in now, he wasn’t sure he’d be strong enough to keep her away, no matter how complicated his life got.

“Steve?” She asked hesitantly, still waiting for an answer. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to impose. You can say no. I won’t be offended I promise,” She said, worry marring her beautiful features. This was the second time he saw her frown and he realized then that he didn’t like seeing her like that, worried. “I haven’t had anyone make a home-cooked meal for me in a long time,” he finally said, relief flooding her face.

“Can I help?” he offered. “The last time I was in the kitchen helping someone cook I was a little boy,” he smiled fondly. “I used to be clumsy and prone to getting hurt, so eventually my momma stuck me in dishwashing duty,” he laughed at the memory and she laughed at the image of a little Steve wearing rubber gloves and an apron.

“Of course you can help,” she knew what it was like to miss the routinary things that brought back memories of home, and if letting him chop some onions would make him feel better the how could she deny him that?

The two of them (three if you count Max) hungrily chowed down on dinner. He loved the home-cooked meal, but more than that, he loved just being around her.

Later that night as he walked back those seven steps to his apartment, he realized that he couldn’t let her go now if he tried.


End file.
